The End
by RedCyanide
Summary: When everything will end, when insanity will creep up inside him and consume him, he will finally call out for his brother...Szayel/IlForte


The darkness of the Las Noches grew heavier before the amber colored pupils and his fingers began trembling awfully until the test tube filled with green colored chemicals slipped from their grip and fell on the floor, shattering with a loud noise. The same amber colored pupils watched the green substance scatter on the white marble and leave a black trail behind, like a burn. His shaking fingers rose to clutch his spinning head.

"Szayel-sama! Szayel-sama!" bouncing onto the stained floor, Lumina and Verona showed their concern for their master and creator, but the scientist couldn't care less. He wanted nobody's pity. He was the perfect being, he was above all of them. He didn't want their pity.

"Get out of my lab, now!" he growled, word rolling painfully out of his throat, but they were still as dangerous as ever. He heard the two Fraccion rush out of the lab and the door slam behind them. The lab was silent now. So silent it pressed onto the pink haired scientist's ears painfully, almost as hard as a powerful reiatsu. He knelled to pick up the shards of what it used to be a test tube.

_Szayel! Szayel! _

A high-pitched scream pierced the silence and the Octava growled again, thinking that one of his Fraccion must have returned to check him. His eyes examined every corner of the lab, but he found nobody in. He hadn't heard the door opening, he hadn't feel any reiatsu, so nobody entered. He must have imagined it. But the mere thought of him imagining a thing made him shudder. Imagine that somebody was calling him; what was going on with him?

_SZAYEL!_

The shards fell from his hands and fingers lost themselves through candy pink hair, pressing into the scalp. His eyes were shut tightly and mouth was clenched. What's going on? What's wrong?

_Oh, so now you hear me!_

His side hit one of the heavy metal tables and white pain shot through his body. It can't be. He can't go insane. Not him. Not that brilliant mind of his; not him, the perfect being, the perfect scientist. The black mist was clouding his vision. The back of his hand hit a test tube and purple liquid spilled over his gloved hand. He hissed in pain as the substance burned the fabric and his skin, hot steams raising and filling the room with their smothering smell.

_You're scared. You're already scared. Just wait to see what is going to happen next!_

_You will die!_

The voices screeched inside his mind. They did not exist, he tried convincing himself. They did not exist, they couldn't do him any harm. His grin widened more and more, but it was not a grin of victory, it was a grin of insanity. His mind, his superior mind, was damaged. It can't be; he told himself. He was the perfect being, perfect, perfect, no flaw!

But maybe, just maybe, the 'perfect being' had a flaw. A flaw called insanity.

_Maybe you're just going insane. _

A voice sounding strikingly like Ichimaru's voice resounded through his mind, and Szayel could imagine the cruel, cold grin the shinigami was flashing him. "Shut up!" he screamed. "Just shut up!" more recipients with chemicals collided with the floor and shattered. The chemicals mixed together and hissed sorely, releasing toxic steams filling Szayel's nostrils and rising to his brain. He coughed into his palm, vaguely noticing the blood staining the white uniform.

"Szayel-sama!" a high-pitched voice could be heard from behind the door. The Fraccion didn't dare to go inside, but it was worried about its master.

"Don't come inside!" Szayel's husky voice reached the Fraccion. "Just stay there." His exhausted organism was ready to give up. But he won't admit defeat. Not him! Not the mighty Szayel Aporro Granz, the best scientist. 'No, I'm not going insane, I'm not going insane.'

_Who do you think you're fooling, idiot._

_You're going insane_

_You're going to die_

_The perfect being isn't exactly perfect, is it?_

He was trembling and clutching his head. 'Somebody make them stop.' Suddenly, Szayel felt his body go weak, as well as his resolve. This was what he feared the most. 'Somebody.' His voice cracked, as if he was going to cry. 'Brother, brother, help me.' He was surprised. Why would he call for his brother? He hated his brother, and the feeling was mutual. Yet he needed help, even though he hated that. 'Brother, make them stop.'

IlForte could feel his brother's reiatsu fluctuating rapidly, sometimes exploding, sometimes so low that he couldn't feel it anymore. What was that idiot doing? Out of curiosity, he sonidoed to his brother's laboratory. What was happening? The reiatsu was heavy, so heavy that IlForte crouched under the force of it. But at the same time it was unstable. Something was going on with Szayel. Slowly, he reached for the handle and pushed the door open. A wave of steam and reiatsu hit him, making him wince. The air was almost toxic and IlForte took a deep breath before stepping in.

_That's it, you weakling. Call for your brother._

_Did I scare you?_

_I scared the poor baby and now he calls for his nii-san_

The voices laughed mockingly and Szayel slammed his fist into the floor. "I said shut up!" he shouted and IlForte startled, his blonde hair waving around as he turned his head and spotted his younger brother. Lying on the floor on his side with a distant look and a fist curled.

"I'm not weak." He murmured. "I'm not weak" his eyes rose to spot his older brother and his sight darkened. "You!" he roared, but didn't move. "What the fuck are you doing here? Get out of my lab!" IlForte didn't move. His brown eyes were fixed upon his younger brother, who was trying desperately to stand up. His trembling fingers motioned towards his hip, where Fornicarás was kept, but they slipped onto the hilt of the Zanpakuto, not having enough strength to grip it.

_My, my, getting feisty now._

_The poor boy came here to save you, as you wished, and now you tell him to go_

_Don't be so prideful, Szayel, you're going to die anyway._

"Shut up," he almost prayed, clutching his head again. IlForte watched him with a cold look in his eyes. Why would he help Szayel? He hated him.

But Szayel's head turned towards him. "Brother, help me. Make them stop, brother. Brother…" IlForte blinked. He stepped towards the pink-haired man.

"You're going insane." Szayel's eyes went wide.

"I'M NOT INSANE!" he shouted, his hands shot to clutch IlForte's right ankle with an incredible force, the Quince Espada startling slightly.

_This is your end, Szayel Aporro Granz._

_You are going insane._

_And you are going to die._

Szayel's head dropped, hitting the floor with a sick thud. His hands lost grip on IlForte's leg. The blonde Arrancar kneeled beside him. His hand wandered above Szayel's pink hair before lowering to touch the weird colored locks and feel them silky beneath his finger tip. Szayel's head rose and the Octava looked at him, almost pleadingly.

IlForte wrapped an arm around Szayel's shoulders and helped him into a standing position. The Espada breathed heavily before putting his hand on his older brother's shoulder. There was a ringing in his ears, a ringing he couldn't get rid of and he shook his head. IlForte's hand rose to grip his pointed chin. His head had been dragged closer to the older Arrancar's face. Szayel felt something soft and wet soothe his chapped and cracked lips. A wave of heat trailed down his body, gathering into his lower stomach and burning his insides. A hand traveled down his belly and stopped on the front of the hakama, making him hiss. IlForte's hand rubbed across the bulge on the other's pants, feeling the Octava writhe in his arms.

_Enjoying yourself, you little bitch. _The voice taunted him.

_It's going to end soon. _It warned.

_You will die! _It said playfully.

Szayel gasped when a cold piece of metal pierced through his lower stomach, shattering the heat and chilling him to the bone. He dared to glance downwards to see his blood, his precious blood, drip out of his body, mingling with the Espada outfit and with the cold steel of his brother's sword. IlForte's hand gripped the hilt of Del Toro tighter and plunged it deeper into the flesh of his younger brother. Szayel's eyes fixed on him; they were unreadable. Insanity ate him away.

_This is the end, Szayel Aporro Granz._


End file.
